Something Remains:Vala
by xxDark-Elfxx
Summary: Oneshot. Set when Vala was a host. Please read Author's note. Nominated for a Stargate Fan Award 2007!


**Author's Note: This is set back when Vala was still a Gou'ald. Basing my assumptions on the fact that when people are taken as hosts, the Gou'ald don't always seem to know everything the host mind knows, and the fact that Sha're was able to send Daniel a message through the hand device, I've decided that the whole symbiote thing works something like the Yeerks in 'Animorphs'. (yes, I read that series, I am a dork, moving on) I'm operating off the belief that the subconscious mind of the host is controlled only very remotely by the Gou'ald and so strong willed hosts might have a bit of a haven in that part are their brain. Also, though he is never named in the fic, the man Vala dreams is intended to be Daniel. (As if I could write anyone else.) All my fics are unbetaed so any mistakes are mine and mine alone. Please reveiw and I will respond. **

**Something Of The Host Remains**

_"All love is sweet, Given or returned. Common as light is love, and its familiar voice_

_wearies not ever."_

_-Percy Bysshe Shelley_

_'Prometheus Unbound'_

_Return often and take me,_

_Beloved sensation, return and take me-_

_When memory of the body awakens,_

_And old desire again runs through the blood;_

_When the lips and skin remember,_

_And the hands feel as if they touch again._

_-C. P. Cavafy_

_ Return; 1709_

She both longs for touch and loathes it. Among the others, she has walls, fences, subliminal-mind vibe equivalents of an unbreakable fortress. Thousand foot high barricades built of utterly immoveable gray stone, packed so tightly together that there is no room, let alone need, for a mortar to cement them in place. At times she hates that too. Because mortar weathers, wears down, and chips away till it gets thin enough to let the right one in. She is secure in the knowledge that He cannot reach her here, not with flesh, anyhow. Thoughts are a different matter, per usual. Terrible thoughts, painful thoughts, twisted, tearing, waiting thoughts that stalk the edges of her mind and steal her attention at inopportune times only to leave her more confused and hurting then before. And deep inside the walled garden she has constructed, in the soothing, cool embrace of night and near-total darkness, she _feels_.

She feels the ghost of a hand caress her back, slipping across her shoulders to stroke down her side, barely there fingertips gently cresting ridges and dipping into valleys formed by her ribs, to settle, tracing symbols onto the tender skin of the curve where stomach meets pelvis, palm cupping hip, conveying warmth and strength and soft-unspoken want. This is not the driving mindset of need, the almost primitive and definitely animalistic give and take of two people caught in the throes of passion so strong it turns the making and expressing of that feeling into a wild battle of wills. No, this is gentler, almost tender. His touch asking, instead of demanding, and the knowledge that she could say no and he would accept it making this feeling all the more irresistible. Idly, as if its an afterthought, her hand comes up to trace the edge of his jaw line, a hint of stubble rasping her fingers when he turns into her hand, pressing soft lips to callused palm, before drawing her thumb into his mouth, circling the tip of his tongue on the pad before sucking ever so lightly, yet still making her gasp at the sensation of any part of her body in his warm, wet mouth. She rolls on the bed, turning her face into his neck and drawing in a deep breath, willing his slightly spicy, musky scent into her lungs, committing it to a memory she'll draw up later, when he's gone and she's been left alone again.

"Never alone, my love, never. I'll be right here when you need me, I swear it."

As if he can read her thoughts like he reads her body, he whispers reassurances that thrill her heart at the same time they're making it ache. Because she's tried it before. Tried pulling him up around her like a blanket when she was alone or in pain or both. The sane part of her mind tells her he's a product of an over stimulated imagination and too little release, wishful thinking. But as his arms slide around her, rolling her underneath him, and she runs her hands over his toned back, another part of her is saying _this is real. HE is real, somewhere._

Then, he presses those lips to hers, running the tip of his tongue over her bottom lip, asking her to let him in, and all the arguments and debates fly out of her head, and she is overwhelmed at the taste of him. Like mead and candied fruit and something else she can't quite place save that it tastes slightly bitter, and she thinks it must be a rare drug and oh, one sip and she's an addict already, craving more instantly when he pulls back to slip her night shirt off and then he's back, more forceful this time, but still seeking conformation that she truly wants this, wants him. She answers the only way she can think of by wrapping her legs around his slim waist and pulling him against her wet center, pushing into him with her hips, desperately wanting more contact.

He breaks the kiss, chuckling slightly at her eagerness, resting his forehead on hers, sharing breath after breath as both of them start panting from the uncontrollable thrusting of their hips against one another.

"Slow… gotta slow d-down. I'm gonna explode, Vala." Eyes closed, muscles taut, his voice is raw, ending on a moan that draws her name out into something full of emotion and meaning. His hips are still moving against hers, but the pressure to be inside her is lessening, the desire to make this perfect blending of souls last as long as possible growing with every touch passing between them. She recognizes the change, and it's cause, and the knowledge makes her only want him more.

"Good. Explode then. I want to see you lose control."

His eyes snap open to lock on hers, and she is swept away by the passion and yes, _love_, staring back at her through irises so brilliant a shade of blue she thinks they must have a color all their own. He seems shocked by her boldness for a split-second, then a smile comes over his face, transforming it into that of a angel of mercy, resplendent in joy mixed with a touch of wickedness that sends shivers running down her spine to curl in the pit of her stomach. She opens her mouth to speak, and he thrusts deep inside her, stretching her, filling her to capacity and beyond. He pauses, letting her adjust to the feel and size of him buried completely in her depths. One hand slides under her to cup her bottom, pushing her against him, while the other finds her breast and begins to knead the firm flesh. She runs her hands over his forearms, up to his strong shoulders and her nails dig into hard muscle when he hits that sweet spot inside. He captures her mouth again, thrusting his tongue against hers, matching the rhythm of his lower body with that of his mouth and hands and she feels the beat of her heart start to pound with the same pulsing desire.

He strokes ever harder, ever deeper, till she would swear he's nudging her heart, rocking her soul with every push of him inside her. Her head falls back as his mouth leaves hers to explore down her neck, open kisses trailing fire from lips to collarbone and back up the other side, stopping to nuzzle under her jaw before continuing up to take her earlobe in his teeth, teasing her with little nips and licks. She wants to respond in kind, wants to drive him to the heights she's cresting, make him lose control, but she knows if she tried, he'd stop her. This about her. Her pleasure, her pain, her craving to be craved like he can't get enough of the taste of her, the feel of her clenching around him in ecstasy, writhing beneath him in the grips of love made tangible. Made real.

So she's the one to relinquish control, letting him move them both toward perfection, and then time slows, and hearts stop, as they seem to balance for a split-second of eternity on the razor sharp edge of a wave of emotion threatening to drown them both. There's no fear in her as she finds his face, eye to eye, electric blue to steel-spun grey, the intensity of the moment forging a connection between their souls, sights she has no words for fly in front of her, and the stars flash and burn and crash down around them, and it's as if there is no more him, no more her, only they, as the wave breaks, and their spirits slip from the holds of their bodies, and heaven is achieved. Then they're falling, floating back down to resubmit to the constraints of blood and bone, skin and sinew, once more fractured and flawed humans in place of the wondrous creations they were at the top of the wave.

He lays next to her, cradling her against his chest as her breathing slows, and the tremors still racing through her slim frame start to subside. She holds him to her, fighting sleep to have him just one moment more. He gently unwraps her arms from the death grip they have around his middle, and tucks her into the bed, whispering into her ear.

"Shh. It's all right, love. Let me go. I'll find you again."

"Promise me." She hates the desperation showing in her voice, but can't hide it. He's her refuge, her savior, and she dreams of the day she falls asleep in his arms only to wake in the exact same spot. Dreams of the day this is real.

"I promise, Vala." He smiles down at her, truth and love shining in his gaze as he smoothes the hair back from her face. He places a tender kiss on her forehead before slowly drawing back, fading into the shadows of the dimly lit room. The last thing she hears as she succumbs to the blackness is his voice, low and soft, making a pledge in her heart. _I'll always find you._

Light hits her eyes and she wants to roll over and burrow beneath the covers, but her body won't obey. Same as every morning, this frightens her for a minute until the memories come flooding back. Eight years and it still surprises her. The fact that her voice is not her voice, her hands not her hands, her mind only half hers.

She is a goddess, and she is in hell.

End


End file.
